Lily-of-the-valley
by Vanilla Battenburg
Summary: DenNor scattered about the story as well (and HongIce).
1. Chapter 1

Short, blond, shiny hair, with gentle spikes curving down over the forehead.

Ivory skin, marred with the light scars of drawn out, twisted and shrieking battles.

A long, straight nose, and a firm mouth, lips sloping gently in contrast to first-appearences.

Bright teal eyes, coloured like oceans in sunlight, sparkling like glitter in moonlight.

It could all be so

Beautiful.

It could.

I know.

But the features are all hardened.

Tight and closed off with a long-embedded harshness.

An illusion that frightens others.

A china mask which seems to threaten.

An accidental façade, which occurred by

Mistake.

How it happened.

No one knows.

A hand stretches out to the chiselled, set jawline.

Elegant fingers tracing the shape of the cold angel face.

The yearning for another face to be there, for those fingers to touch features so different from these.

The longing for another gaze to be trained upon this steel.

A soft gentle want that could only be created by

Love.

And the effects.

He knows.

And the sweet, sad scent of Lily-of-the-valley.

"Hey! Berwald!"

"Mm?"

I lower my hand to my side, look for a few more seconds, then turn away

from the looking glass. I should really stop with this habit. Just staring at myself in the mirror for hours on end can't be good for me. If I don't stop soon it'll become a compulsion...

Who am I kidding? It already has. Every day trying to figure out why people find me frightening. It's not like I'm deformed or anything, and I'm not particularly ugly...

I stand there for a moment, close my eyes, inhale. That smell. The one that reminds me of him. It comes from a bunch of little bell-shaped flowers, placed carefully in a vase on the windowsill, where it can get the most light. He gave me them last week, on the 6th of June. My National Day. A day which marks my independence, and is celebrated as a national holiday throughout my country. For us representations of countries, I have always thought that National Days are sort of our equivalent of the birthdays which normal people have. And so, like them, we give presents, and in some of the cases of more boisterous countries, party and get drunk.

And wake up with a splitting headache the next day.

He gave me those flowers as a present. The others didn't understand, and asked why he was giving my _his_ national flower, when it was my National Day. Surely, they said, it would be more appropriate to give me one of my flowers. But he simply gave me a beautific smile, as only he knows that Lily-of-the-valley was my favourite flower, and, although I rarely speak unless necessary, I would always comment on its wonderful scent. No one else knows that. And that conspiratorial smile, directed at me and only me, made me feel as if we shared some sort of delicious secret. It was quite thrilling, and I treasured it.

Of course, I hold any interaction with Tino Väinämöinen as precious as life itself.

A small noise of impatience pulls me from my thoughts, and I open my eyes and turn to the person standing in my bedroom doorway. Then look down. An irritated Icelander stares up at me, slender arms folded.

"If you've quite finished daydreaming, Berwald."

I wonder what his puffin's done this time. Emil is usually fairly mild towards me, despite my thoughts on the whole 'big brother' argument, and he never tends to get snappy unless we tease him,

his brother's done something, or Mr Puffin's done something.

Lukas has been in the garden talking to trolls for at least an hour, so it must have been the bird.

" 're ya looking f 'r Mr Puffin, Em'l?"

"Já..." His expression immediately turns suspicious. "Why, have you seen him do something?"

"No, 'm just guessing he's d 'ne something wr 'ng by the look 'n your face. He was 'n th ' kitchen last time I saw h 'm." I give a chuckle, and Emil looks terrified and backs away slowly.

Ah yes.

I'd momentarily forgotten that my smiles scare people.

That and my unusually long answer probably shocked him.

"W-well, he's stolen my liquorice again, the kitchen you say? I'd best go find him then, bæ!" He hurries off, looking unnerved. I sigh.

This happens every time I try to engage in a conversation with someone. I'll try to say something light, in a jokey or cheerful way, but it always seems to come out wrong. So when I speak I tend to keep it to the point and to a minimum. Which has given me a reputation for being a bad communicator. Yay.

Still, Tino likes my company, right? He also has a reputation, but his is the opposite. He is known for talking too much, and in the words of Emil, 'never shutting the hell up with his damn cheerfulness'.

I don't care what anyone else thinks. I could listen to that voice all day. And when I get the rare chance to be alone with him, I let him talk and talk and inevitably end up babbling, but I always listen, because every word is magic. He occasionally stops, asks me if he's being too noisy, but I always, without fail, respond,

"I like l 'stening to m' wife talk."

To which he always replies,

"Ber! I'm not your wife! Even if we were together, I'm a man!"

The 'even if we were together' always sends a pang through my heart. I wish that we were. Oh, I really do. I fantasise about holding the Finn's fragile frame in my arms, kissing him, looking after him...like he's my wife. I only dare to call him that because no one takes it seriously. It's a running joke with some of the other countries. Half of them will take Tino's side, half mine, and they will have a very enjoyable, very loud argument over whether Tino should, or should not be called my wife. Everyone thinks it's a joke. Even Tino. And I let them, because I would die if they found out that I meant it, even if it is wistfully.

I sit down at my desk and pull a sheaf of papers towards me. I sift through the neglected letters to find anything that my currently lazy brain can actually put up with on this Saturday afternoon.

Aha! A letter from Tino! Now that I can bring up brain power to read.

'...want to visit you really soon. Would next Monday be okay?' Oh yes. Definitely.

I quickly write a reply, beginning it with 'my dear wife' (because I use the name every chance I get), and put it in the pile for sending.

I sit back, and look out of my window. I can see Lukas sitting cross-legged in the centre of the garden watching as Emil chases Mr Puffin, who has a piece of liquorice dangling from his beak. I study the Norwegians face, and from what I can glean, he is amused. His expressions, like mine, are difficult to read, so I feel a sort of brotherly affinity with him.

Which is why I so readily let him and his brother come here when Matthias got too much to bear.

From what I have heard, the Dane has been sliding quite rapidly down a slippery slope. He has become power-crazed, egotistical and narcissistic. Lukas and his little brother had been staying with him in his house, and two years ago, Matthias and Lukas had announced themselves to be in a relationship.

On the surface they seemed to be the most mismatched couple imaginable, but love is love, whatever form it takes, and it was obvious that they truly cared about one another.

Recently, however, Matthias had become more reckless, more assertive and more dominant, invading other countries at random, and causing pointless wars just to gain power.

In the end, Lukas couldn't take it. He had given the Dane chance after chance to redeem himself, but Matthias just didn't stop, and one night they had an argument, and things got violent. So the Norwegian left him a month ago, and came to me for a friend to talk to.

It was the middle of the night, when I opened the door to him. He was standing there, a confused, frightened-looking Emil clinging to his arm as if he were a child again, staying close to his big brother for safety. I looked into Lukas' eyes and saw the raw sorrow and pain they contained, and the cut on his cheek, and I knew that the Dane had gone too far.

"C 'mon in."

An hour later, after he put an exhausted Emil to bed, whispering words of comfort to him, Lukas and I sat down in the kitchen and talked.

That night was the only time I have ever seen the Norwegian cry.

I look away from the window and back to the letter in front of me. I smile inwardly at the thought of seeing Tino again, pick it up, put it in my pocket, and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.

**Yeah...the poem at the start wasn't actually meant to be a poem, it just kind of...turned out that way. WARNING this is going to be quite a serious fanfic. I mean, I will put in many cute moments, feareth not, and it will have a happy ending, but the general overtones will be quite serious. I hate it when I start to read a fanfic, and it seems lovely and then it has a sad ending. Those always make me cry.**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Aargh, I just realised that a paragraph split itself in two in the last post. Apologies, I didn't notice it.**

I swear, Sunday is taking forever.

Why is it that when you're waiting for something good to happen, it always takes about three times longer than strictly possible to come to you? Insane.

I spend the morning reading, going for a walk, and watching TV. Then I read again. Then I go for another walk. Then I do paperwork. Then I cook lunch, and a massive dessert. Then I go for another walk. Then I read some more. Then I tidy my study. Then I put some important dates into my diary. Then I scrub the kitchen floor. Then I google how juggle. Now I'm reading agai-WHEN WILL THE DAY BE OVER ALREADY?!

I throw down my book and get up from my place on the sofa. I glance at my watch. Just gone seven... I'd best get something to eat, and then have an early night, although most of the evening will be spent laying awake, thinking of a certain adorable Finn...

I go into the kitchen, and make my way to the cupboard before catching sight of Lukas at the kitchen table. He is seated looking towards me, with a phone held to his ear, and his face is pale. His expression is wooden and blank, but the hand that holds the phone is shaking. And I think I know why.

"Matthias?" I mouth.

He nods.

He listens for a minute, then speaks.

"Look, I told you...I made my choice. I gave you chances, Matthias, and y-you blew them." His monotone voice would have fooled most people, but I can hear the slight strain, and I picked out the little stutter in the middle of his sentence.

Pale face, shaking hands and a slight stutter.

The Dane really must have been terrible to him. This was the second time I had seen the stoic Norwegian display more than the barest amount of emotion, and I wonder briefly whether Lukas was truly frightened of the other man...

Matthias says something, and Lukas' eyes flicker to me.

"Yes? S-so what if I am? That's none of your business. I told you, we're finished, Dane, so just..."

Again, he listens, and after a moment, he pulls the phone away from his ear and holds it out to me.

His eyes are on the floor.

"He wants to speak to you..." I reach out and place my fingers over the phone, and over his hand.

"L'kas..."

As well as being the only person other than Tino who I would class as a friend, Lukas is the only one who knows about my unrequited love for the Finnish nation. He's never hugged me, told me it'll all be okay and that Tino really does have feelings for me, or anything like people would expect friends to do, but he's always...been there. Even if not physically. He didn't even say anything about it when I first told him. All he said was that he had loved Matthias a long, long time before the Dane had realised his love for him. And after that it took them over a year to get together.

Not an encouragement, not a discouragement. But somehow, it let me know he was there.

So now I have to be there for him.

I give his hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes still focused on the kitchen tiles, and let go, taking the phone to my ear.

"M'tthias."

"Give him back right now, Swede." The voice is whispered, and the sheer malice in it causes me to hold the phone away from me for a moment. What? What had I done now?

"I d 'n't know what you're t 'lking ' bout. G've who back?"

The voice changes to a screech.

"Don't play dumb, Berwald! Lukas, who else would I mean?! I know you're keeping him there! He would have come back by now on his own! He wouldn't leave me, I know he wouldn't. It must be you!"

So that's it. He's in denial. And I am his scapegoat.

It makes sense really, if I think about it. The Dane and I have never liked each other. It began when we first met, so long ago now, but I remember the day clearly.

And as soon as we locked eyes, teal on blue, I could see it. The immediate challenge, the sudden wariness. I imagine that my own eyes reflected it. But we were civil with each other, we shook hands, told each other our names, managed a light chat.

It didn't last.

Soon enough we were fighting bloody wars against each other, each determined to out-do the other. I don't know why, and I don't think he does either. We repel each other. It got to the point where either of us would leap at the chance to have a fight. Like a bomb, a situation with us together would tick down until one exploded, and the other swiftly followed suit.

In the end, Tino didn't like it, didn't like what I became during wars with Matthias, the way I lost all reason. It frightened him, I could see it in those big brown eyes. Of course, Tino had been through his own fair share of hardship, probably more than the rest of us Nordics, but I think that's why he hated seeing me in constant battle then. And Lukas and Emil agreed with him. So, Matthias and I agreed (under supervision from the others). No more wars. But the hostility will always remain. So now he's taking it out on me.

"M 'tthias," I say, trying to be patient. "L'kas came here b 'cause h' wanted to. It's h's own free w'll. I'm n't m'king him do 'nything."

Ugh, I hate my voice, I always have. Another reason I don't like to talk so much. I have this crazy trouble with vowels, and sometimes I mumble them, causing other people not to hear them properly.

Matthias appears to have heard every word I said however, and he doesn't like it. Obviously.

"Yeah right, you Swedish bastard! He's been mad at me before, but he's always come back to me! Always! You just want to steal him from me, don't you? You know I love him and you want to take him away to get to me! You're taking advantage of his fragility just to spite me, aren't you? Huh?" His voice is wild, desperate and full of fury. I try to remain relaxed.

"Ya th'nk he's frag'le?" I say calmly. "B'cause the scar 'n his cheek tells a d 'fferent story."

I gaze at Lukas, who is slumped over in his seat, his head tilted at an angle so I can see the vertical white line running down from just below his eye to his jaw bone. His hair is over his eyes. He is silent.

There is a moment of quiet on Matthias' end of the phone, and I can practically feel the anger building up. I wonder if I'm in line for one of his world-famous tantrums. I prepare myself for the outburst.

Which doesn't come.

"Berwald." His voice is a malice-filled hiss, and I almost shudder at the pure poison he can put into my name.

"You...have stolen what is most dear to my heart, you know?"

I have to bite my tongue to refrain from asking why, if Lukas was so 'dear' to him, he acted like he was nothing to him, and hurt him in more ways than one. And is now acting as if Lukas is an object, with no free will. He speaks again.

"It's clear that you're not going to give him back to me. You always were the quietly stubborn type, weren't you Berwald?" He's used my name twice now. I'm not getting a good feeling about this.

"Fine then, you keep him. I'll get him back, don't you worry. And meanwhile...I'm going to steal something precious of yours, Berwald. And you'll never get it back."

He hangs up.

I set the phone gently on the table with a little click, and try to gather my thoughts. The last thing he said...His voice sounded so low and dangerous that it's unnerved me quite a bit...But, the Dane is known for his childish attitude, and I know better than anyone that he nearly always makes empty threats. So I push it from my mind, and concentrate on Lukas.

He slowly raises his blond head, his cross hair pin gleaming in the stark kitchen lights. His indigo eyes meet mine, and although blank, they look red around the edges.

"What did he say?"

"Th 't he w'nts ya back." It's not a lie. It's just a nicer way of putting it.

"Oh..." He looks away for a couple of minutes, and we stay in silence.

Then he stands, and looks (up) at me square in the face. His back is straight and his fists are clenched.

" I'm not going back to him. I don't want to be with him. At least, not now...But it would have to be a drastic change to convince me to go back, and he would have to maintain it before I could even consider letting him touch me again...If I ever return to him, it will be on my terms. I'm not his possession and I'm not some doll for him to do whatever the hell he likes with." He takes a step towards me.

"Berwald...If I...at some point...did return to him...Not that it's likely that I will...Would you take care of Emil for me? I wouldn't want to make him go back just because I was."

I chuckle. Lukas is a very strong minded man. I know he won't cave in to the Dane, and I don't tell him to not ever consider going back to Matthias, because the Norwegian is no weakling. If he sees that Matthias really doesn't love him enough to change, then he will not try again with him. Simple as that. And I mentally applaud Lukas for thinking of his brother. However...

" 'mil is strong. 't's true, he's n't the biggest country, but he's gr'wn up now. I th'nk he'd be fine. But I'd keep 'n eye on h'm f' 'r ya."

"Thanks." He gives a faint smile. "I know he's an adult now, but it's still difficult to watch him, wanting to be all independent...But I'll always be his big brother. I got him to say it again this morning, you know? He doesn't know how important it is to me, that one phrase..."

He looks into space for a moment. I open the fridge.

"I'll make us d 'nner, 'kay?"

He gets up from his place, and we both look at each other, a resolve to forget about the phone call in our eyes.

"Okay."

**You like? I know it's taking a while to get going, but please bear with. And I know it's kind of annoying, the way I write Berwalds' speech, but there is a storyline-orientated reason for this, so again, please stick with it.**

**I will send all reviewers rainbow aura hugs.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry this took so long. Happily, though, exams are now over for the immediate future, and I have a week off school soon, so I can concentrate on this. Thank you to my wonderful wonderful reviewers, I love you so. Your reviews gave me lovely-happy-warm-glowey feelings when I read them. Just thought I'd let you know.**

He didn't come.

I waited for ten hours straight. Even when it reached eight pm, nine hours after he was meant to arrive. I call him seven times. No answer. Finally, I throw in the towel, get myself dinner, and spend a good three hours worrying.

Why didn't he come? Although easily distracted, Tino is usually a fairly punctual person, and he has never kept me waiting for long before. Ever.

I sit on my bed in my pyjamas, eyes closed. It's 11:47. Why didn't he answer my phone calls, at least? Maybe he couldn't? My mind goes over so many things. Murder, kidnap, alien abduction, evil twins...

My eyes shoot open. The letter! Maybe I'd written something offensive. I try to remember what I'd written...It went something like...

_My dear wife,_

_Monday would be wonderful. Around 11:00 am is an ideal time, but I'll be in all day, so you don't have to panic about getting here exactly on time. I look forward to seeing you._

_Love,_

_Berwald_

_P.S. Those flowers you gave me are lovely. Thank you again._

I think back over it. There's nothing offensive in that, is there? It's to the point, just like me. It's the way I always write letters. He's received many from me before, reading it shouldn't have done anything, so...

I slap my face. Hard. Of course. Obviously the letter got lost in the mail and never reached it's destination. He didn't read it, and thought that I just didn't reply. So he made other plans for today. And he couldn't phone me earlier because Mr Puffin had been messing around in the wires of the house phone and we couldn't get it to work until this morning. Lukas' phone is still at Matthias' place, and mine broke two weeks ago and I haven't bothered to get a replacement yet...But why couldn't he have phoned Emil's phone, the one I used to speak to Matthias?

Ah, of course, Emil only got it last week. I remember him speaking excitedly about it to his brother.

He's been getting new gadgets recently, in an effort to become a more up-to-date country, and to prove that he can be independent. He was saying that it has this new thing on it where it records the phone conversations you have, so you can listen back to it. Lukas asked him when exactly this new phone would be doubling as a sofa bed. Emil, understandably, to flounce off in a huff.

I smile. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. Now it all made sense. A simple mail mix-up. That's all it was. Tino is probably a little mad at me, but I'll go round tomorrow and explain. My heart feels as if a weight has been lifted off it. I climb into bed, switch off the lights and pull the covers up to my chin.

I've always thought Tino's love of letter-writing a little strange. I mean, he could just phone me when he wants to speak to me, but when I once suggested that, his reply (accompanied by an extremely adorable crinkling of his cute little nose, might I add) was:

" Now where's the fun in that?"

And I can see it. Every time I've seen him sifting through the boring old bills and letters from his boss, and he finds a handwritten letter from another country that goes along with his weird habit, he positively glows. And I can kind of understand what he means. When I found his letter amongst the others, I felt happier. This is why I love him so much. He makes me so happy.

In the morning, I rise at eight, put on a nice shirt and pressed trousers, and drive over to Tino's house. It's not too far away, but it would still be quite a stretch to walk, and I would only attempt that if I was feeling particularly restless/brave/stupid.

When I get to the big, eggshell white house, I can see his car there. Good. That means, unless he's taken Hanatamago for a walk, he's probably in.

I knock.

I wait for five.

I knock again.

I go round to the back door, and knock there.

I spend half an hour peering in through windows and calling his name.

Eventually, I'm so worried that he's unconscious or something, I pick the lock (I made all the doors anyway), and search his house from top to toe. Even the sauna, and if he_ had_ been there, it would have been rather awkward...

2:24 am

I give up.

I go home.

I enter my house, feeling thoroughly disheartened and worried to death. I go into the sitting room, flop down on the sofa, and put my hands over my face. My thoughts are racing so much, that I can't even form them coherently any more. I just stare into the dark pink of my palms, and then I hear the door open.

Lukas looks at me, and moves towards my slumped figure.

"What's happening about Tino, Berwald? I thought he was meant to come over yesterday..."

I try to think clearly, and tell him everything that's happened. Now he looks worried.

"Doesn't Tino tend to tell you when he won't be at home, or goes on a holiday?"

"H 's car was st 'll th 're."

"Hmm..."

"Lukas! Have you or your trolls hidden my phone?"

Emil comes in, also looking worried.

"No, have you lost it?"

"Well, I must have done...Unless that puffin has done something _else_."

"It's probably him."

"Yeah...I'll go look for him."

He leaves, his pale hair catching the sunlight briefly as he turns to walk out of the door.

Lukas sits down on a patterned blue cushion, face passive. When he speaks, his voice is calm.

"Well, Berwald, the best course of action to ta-"

He is cut off by a muffled sound coming from underneath the cushion. He frowns, and rummages around under it, hand coming out holding Emil's new phone. He rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth. Probably to call Emil, but another noise comes from the phone, and now I can hear that it's a voice.

My voice.

"Ya th'nk he's frag'le? B'cause the scar 'n his cheek tells a d 'fferent story."

Oh. It's the recording of our conversation. Neither myself nor Lukas make a move. We just listen.

"Berwald. You...have stolen what is most dear to my heart, you know? It's clear that you're not going to give him back to me. You always were the quietly stubborn type, weren't you Berwald?

Fine then, you keep him. I'll get him back, don't you worry. And meanwhile, I'm going to steal something precious of yours, Berwald. And you'll never get it back."

The recording ends, and the room is silent, the only noise the thudding of the phone hitting the floor as it slips out of the Norwegian's grip. Lukas' face is drained of colour, as we both realize at the same time how stupid we'd been to forget that phone call.

Our eyes lock, in horror and numbness.

"I'm going to steal something precious of yours, Berwald. And you'll never get it back."

Tino.

Hell.

**Review! Please (Must not forget manners...).**


	4. Chapter 4

**So sorry! It's been ages and I think I'm going to have to come to terms with the fact that I'm only going to be able to manage about a chapter a fortnight, but I'll try to compensate by writing long chapters for you...Thank you to all reviewers, flowers and those who have favourited this despite the astonishing lack of romance so far. I absolutely promise that there shall be romance (there could hardly not be, as I am a soppy romantic myself), but I just want to thank you all for bearing with...**

It has been two days, and Tino still isn't anywhere to be found. Nor is Matthias. We've been searching all over the place, and now most of the other countries are on the look out for him. I am currently in the living room, finishing a phone call to Miss Elizabeta, and trying my very best not to break down.

"I am so sorry Bervald, ve haven't seen or heard anything of him. If either Roderich or I do, ve'll let you know straight avay, okay?"

Her voice is so gentle I think I might cry.

" 'kay. Th'nk you."

As I put the phone down, Emil runs through the door and leaps behind the sofa. I immediately drop behind the coffee table. Right on cue, is a small hissing sound from the kitchen, an English voice shouting "Eureka!" then a bang. Smoke pours through the door and a very broken kettle flies through the air and lands at my feet.

Three figures stumble through the door and collapse, coughing. Vladimir and Arthur are Lukas' friends, and they often practise magic together, so this is a regular occurrence. They are quite skilled at what they do (with the exception of the odd mishap and disassembled refrigerator), so Lukas enrolled their help in using the dark forces to find Tino. I eye them up hopefully. I can tell by the mildly terrified look the Romanian is giving me as he pulls himself to his feet, however, that they have not been successful.

"Sorry Berwald."

They all lower their eyes to the floor, two scared because they don't know any better, and one pitying. There is an awkward moment, and then Lukas says,

"Well...we'd better clear up."

As they turn to back to the kitchen, I swivel with a heavy heart and suddenly I'm in my room. How did I get here?...Oh yeah, I walked. I'm barely taking anything in at the moment. All I can think of is Tino. Wondering where he is. It's hacking away at me. I can't eat, can't sleep. I can only wait for news. What if he's hurt? If the Dane has hurt him, I swear, I'll...

Would he though? Matthias was always capable of a certain uniquely childish spite. How far would he go in order to hurt me?

"_I'm going to steal something precious of yours, Berwald. And you'll never get it back."_

Oh god, what if he's...killed him? No, no, mustn't think that...

I look at the flowers on the windowsill. Still living. Still smelling sweet. I walk to them, pick on out of the vase, examining the fragile petals, the delicate stem. I cut the stems diagonally when I first received them. It's an old trick I learnt which makes flowers last longer in water. I begin haphazardly stroking one of the petals in an attempt to calm myself, rubbing my fingers up and down, up and down, staring glazedly at it as I do so. I love Lily-of-the-valley so...

I try being rational and tell tell myself sternly that of course the Dane wouldn't kill him. If I find him and he sees how angry I am, he might even release Tino without further ado. Also in keeping with his childish attitude, Matthias says things he doesn't mean in the heat of the moment, and doesn't tend to fulfil threats, so the likelihood of Tino being safe is quite high.

I release the soft petal from between my fingers, and, thus calmed, replace the flower and move to go out of the door. I was about to go and phone Ludwig, as he said he would do an intense search for Tino and the German s nothing if not thorough, but something stops me. A feeling that I'm...missing something. I look back down at my hand.

A pale hand, like the rest of me. Covered in scars like the rest of me too. Nothing different from my other hand. I turn it palm down, then palm up. Then I flex the fingers. Then I spot it. That special scar. A long, white line, directly in the joint between my thumb and index finger. The deepest scar that's visible to me when I'm fully dressed. His swords, and once a gun too, have inflicted many more scars on my torso, but this one happened at...that place. That place.

Ah. So that's where they are.

As the skies darken and the rain begins to pour, I'm suddenly much less certain of Tino's safety. In fact, there's barely any chance that he's safe at all.

* * *

Matthias Køhler tilted his blond head up and looked out of the window. He liked the rain. It did stir up some painful memories about him and Lukas, though... Well, these days, what didn't? He was willing to apologies, willing to grovel to Lukas, willing to say that he was wrong even if he didn't think he was...If only that damn Swede would let him come home.

But it seemed Berwald was being stubborn. So, Matthias reasoned, his hand had been forced, right?

He would just keep the Finn here until Berwald gave Lukas back. That was all. It was reasonable. Yes, perfectly reasonable.

He swivelled his black-booted heel and strode out of the wood-panelled room and down a long corridor. He descended a flight of steps, shoes clicking on the stone the only sound in the cold, empty air. As he reached the bottom, two figures came into view. Two young men whom Matthias had assigned to look after Tino, to make sure he had food, water, good sanitation and enough warmth in these chilly dungeons.

He observed the first as he walked towards them. Kristian, his name was. A tall, fairly good-looking man with a face that had seen it all. His brown eyes were too hardened for someone in their early twenties. Matthias had seen him before amongst his men, and trusted him as a hard worker and good fighter.

The other one though...a boy, couldn't have been more than sixteen. Mads. Such a fragile look upon his young, pale face, so troubled...And yet, Matthias got a rather intelligent, smart vibe from him, and Kristian had recommended him as a hard-worker...but still...he'd have to watch this one...

He nodded to them as he passed, holding his hand out to Kristian, who dropped a set of rusty keys into his palm. He went to a large steel door, and unlocked it, pushed it open, and went in. He shut it tight behind him.

"Kristian...?" the younger man said nervously.

"Yeah?"

"Why...is that other man here? I mean, he seems like a nice guy...What has he done to King Denmark? Our orders were to ensure his health is well and keep him safe, even if he is imprisoned, so...why is he here?"

"...I don't know, Mads, and I don't care to know. You'd be wise to take that attitude too." The voice was gentle, but firm.

"Right, yeah..."

Matthias surveyed the man tied up in front of him. Wrists bound above his head and a look of fear in his chocolate eyes, Tino Väinämöinen stared back at him. His whole body was tense, stiffened, and he was absolutely still. Matthias came forward slowly towards him, until he was standing in front of the Finn. When Matthias spoke, it was with soft concern.

"Have you been treated well?"

Tino nodded slowly, eyes like a frightened rabbit's, never leaving the Dane's face once. Matthias sighed.

"...Look, Tino, I'm really sorry, but this was necessary..."

The Finn exploded, his eyes darkening and fury clear on his face.

"Necessary?! What was 'necessary' Matthias? To kidnap me in the middle of the night, blindfold me, ear-plug me and bring me to this god-forsaken place? Was that 'necessary'? To keep me in here for...how many days is it now? I don't even know! With only two men whom I don't know to care for me? And they wouldn't speak to me! Even when I asked what was going on! Was that 'necessary' too?"

Matthias winced. Okay, so he probably shouldn't have told them not to speak to him...That was a little over the top now he thought about it...

"What have I done to you? Why am I here? Have you any idea how afraid I've been? In the dark, all alone..."

Matthias mentally face-palmed now. He'd forgotten, because of the horribly dark Finnish winters, being in the dark whilst not a phobia, was the last thing that Tino wanted...

"I'm sorry Tino. I shouldn't have kept you like this without telling you why..."

"What have I done?" There was a tremor in the fragile man's voice now. Matthias leaned down to touch Tino's shoulder, a gesture which he hoped would show the Finn that he truly meant no harm.

Tino flinched and gasped, wriggling to get away from him.

Matthias frowned, drawing back. Okay, it had been a long time since they'd seen each other, but he'd never really done anything much to Tino before now...Why would he flinch?

"Tino...I'm not gonna hurt you. Why are you so scared of me?"

"What, you m-mean other for than the fact that you kidnapped me?" the faint stutter was not lost on Matthias.

"Yeah, but by now you should have worked out that I'm not gonna harm you..."

Tino looked at the stone floor. Then suddenly back up at Matthias, a rebellious, defiant look in his eye.

"Well, Ber has told me about the things you've done. The people you've hurt, the wars you've caused...He's told me about your sudden rages and that you get completely out of control, smashing anything and everything in your path...Why wouldn't I be scared?"

This touched a nerve in Matthias, and his handsome face twisted, a sneer at his lips.

"Of course, you'd believe everything that Swedish bastard tells you, wouldn't you?"

"Don't call him that." Tino murmured quietly, hair covering his downcast eyes. Matthias' annoyance sparked further.

"I'll call him whatever I damn well want!" his stance was tense. He cocked his head on one side and looked down at the Finn, expression pitying. "He means the world to you, doesn't he?...Even though you two haven't told each other you love each other yet, you'd believe him if he told you the sky was green..."

"...And what about you, Matthias? You should know how it feels, to have someone you think the world of...Or do you?"

Matthias was starting to feel the pressure build up in his body. He could feel the red, right behind his eyes, the red that appeared whenever he got really mad... He tried to suppress it.

"What the hell do you mean by that, Tino?" His voice a low, dangerous growl, he leant over the smaller man, his hand on the wall above where his hands were tied. Tino stared back, unflinching.

" I saw Lukas, Matthias. I saw how you treated the person you 'love'. I saw how broken he was. Ber would never treat me like that, ever..."

The red was growing brighter in Matthias' mind. Turning crimson. A tingling in his body...

"Oh yeah, because that Swede is positively perfect! Looks terrifying, and other countries all say how scary he is, but who do they run to for help? Him! Who gets all the attention, all the care? Him! He takes advantage of that, can't you see? He knows, he knows how precious Lukas is to me and that I'd make it up to him if I got the chance. But he's keeping Lukas away from me to stop me being happy! So I'm doing the same to him..."

Tino's head shot up to gaze, wide-eyed at Matthias, who was panting heavily after his outburst.

"So...so you're doing all this, you kidnapped me and put me through all this...to hurt Berwald?"

Silence.

Tino's eyes went hard and cold.

"Childish bastard," he said softly.

And the red exploded.

_Hello, Matthias. It's been a while, huh? Remember me? I came out when you were mad at Lukas, although he was quite lucky to escape relatively unharmed... It's funny, you should have known not to bring him here. I always come out in this place. Always. Now, you remember what to do, right? Everything is your enemy, but that man in front of you...he is the centre of it all. Destroy him. Yep, unsheathe your sword, just like that...No, wait. Better idea. Don't kill him. He'll just get relief that way. _

_Okay, use the sword to slice through the rope holding his hands above his head, so that he drops down, but his wrists are still tied. Okay, good. He's asking what you're doing, says you look as if you're...in a dream. He's scared._

_Ignore him._

_There's a shelf over there, go and get the...No, not that one, the one you first got from Britain when you went for a visit. The one with nine ends to it. Right, okay, now go towards him...so many questions, so much noise. What's that he's saying? 'What are you doing, have you gone mad, put that down, Matt please just stop, you're not thinking straight...'_

_And now he's calling for Berwald. How sweet._

_Gosh, that was a hard kick Matthias, way to go! And right to the stomach too. On his front now, I see. Still calling for that Swede though. As if he'll come rescue him. Ugh, he's screaming his name now...It's getting kind of annoying, that particular pitch. Hey, why don't we make it louder, find a key we like? And that red, I wanna see it! Let's see it! Just raise up your hand..._

_Oh. Oh my goodness, that's beautiful. His screams are absolutely gorgeous. And that red, so...pretty. Oh, I have missed this. More! _

_...Seventy eight, seventy nine...Aw, bless, you let up for a second. I'm amazed he's still conscious. He's crying, his little pale face all covered with tears and blood. Still gasping out that one name like it's a goddamn life-line..._

_Hey Matthias, I just thought of something. You were just gonna keep this man a while, then give him back when your beloved returned, correct? But that Swede...He doesn't ever deserve to have his love again. Killing the boy's a bit much though..._

_Nah, I've thought up a better way..._

**I know it sounds really angsty right now, but there will be fluff...Please review, whether it's a one-word comment or an in-depth analysis of how bad my writing is...**


	5. Chapter 5

"I kn 'w where Tino 's, and I'm gonna go f 'nd h'm." Lukas stares at me, an expression crossed between relief and disbelief on his face, illuminated by the dim light in the corridor which keeps out the night. Recent events have changed him, I've noticed. He's been showing more emotion on his face lately.

"Really? That's wonderful Berwald! But how do you know...?"

I was just about to leave when Lukas found me. Now, I edge towards the door, desperate to rescue Tino, but knowing that I can't just take off with no explanation.

"... I j'st know. B'sides, we've tr'ed everywh're else... M'tthias'll be th're too. 't's the only place I c'n think th't he'd take him..."

"Right, then I'll come with you! He might listen to me." As the Norwegian reaches for his coat, I open my mouth to tell him why he can't.

"No! You're not going back to him! I won't let you!"

We swivel, shocked, to see a dishevelled Emil, hair mussed up, and pyjama shirt hanging off his slender frame. His violet eyes are filled with fury and his body is tense.

I see an immediate change in Lukas when he's gotten over the shock. His body relaxes, and his face becomes gentle.

"Emil, you should be in bed...I know you're grown up now, but you've had so much paperwork recently, you need your slee-"

The Icelander steps forward.

"No! Don't try to distract me! You're not going back to that maniac, Lukas! And that's the end of it!"

"Emil, I'll be fine, I'm not going to stay, I'll jus-"

Emil turns and kicks the wall, leaving a crack and making both Lukas and me jump.

"Argh, you IDIOT! For once just listen to me, will you! If you go there, he won't let you go, no matter how much you try to reason with him! He's a psycho who will just hurt you, how much of what he does will you have to see before you get that into your thick head! Þú ert svo heimskur!"

The last sentence is a wail, slipping into his native language. His head is down, silvery hair over his face. Lukas tries one last time, voice quiet.

"Emil, please, you shouldn't worry about m-"

Emil takes two steps forward and slaps him, not looking up. Silence. Lukas stares at his brother, shock and a red mark clear on his face. The Icelander looks broken, shoulders shaking.

"W-who else is g-gonna worry about y-you, huh? S-s-stupid stóri bróðir..."

And now Lukas has his arms around his little brother, who is sobbing uncontrollably into his chest, and I realize that witnessing the fight between Lukas and his lover affected Emil a lot more than he'd previously let on.

I feel as if this is something I shouldn't be witnessing, a crucial moment between the two brothers, but I stay still in the corner, not wanting to break the spell. Lukas is now on his knees, cradling his brother, rocking him gently as Emil's sobs turn to sniffles.

"That's five times in, what...a month? Honestly Em, you seem to be losing your resolve..." Lukas murmers softly.

To my immense surprise, Emil does not react to the pet name negatively. Instead he clings tighter to Lukas' shirt, whispering, this time in English,

"Big brother."

They sit there in silence for a minute, then Lukas says,

"Emil, look at me."

The younger raises his tear-stained face.

"You've been spending quite a bit of time around a certain young man recently, haven't you? A young man from Hong Kong?"

Emil's face reddens, and he mumbles a quiet yes. Lukas gives a faint smile.

"And...you care for him a lot? As in...more than a friend, right?"

Nod.

"You...love him?"

Nod. Blush.

"Don't worry Em. I won't tell him. But I can tell you that Li Xiao is starting to feel the same way, even if it took a while...and I can see how dear he is to your heart. Tell me Emil, if he ever turned on you, hurt you, destroyed your world...You'd resent him, yes? You'd be scared, wary. It's only natural. But...would you hate him?"

Tears form again in Emil's eyes as he thinks about it. He shakes his head, a pained expression on his face. He speaks, voice strained.

"No...I couldn't...E-even if I tried...I-I..."

Lukas takes his face in his hands and looks at him straight on, a sad smile on his face.

"You see? Now you know. I can run away from Matthias, can tell him that it's over, that I can't take it any more...But, no matter how much you may want me to, I cannot hate him for what he's done. You see, I loved him a long time before he realised his feelings for me...Even if I didn't tell him so."

"I just don't want you to be hurt..."

Lukas takes Emil's hands in his own.

"I won't go back to him unless I'm certain, okay? And I promise if he hurts me, I'll let you set an army of puffins on him or something, 'kay?"

"Okay."

They embrace, and the scene really touches my heart. It's the first time I've ever seen them act like this around each other since Emil was little. Lukas turns to look at me, a serious look on his face.

"And you. Someone needs you right now, right? Is this a spectator sport? Don't just stand around watching!"

He looks down at Emil, who's head is buried in his shirt again.

"Go! I'll put this one to bed. And.." he looks ruefully at the cracked wall. "I'll try and do something about that. Emil always did have such a temper on him..." I hear a mumble of indigence come from the shirt.

I nod, and wasting no more time, pick up my jacket, and leave the brothers and the brief respite alone. And as I go to find Tino, the seriousness of the situation crashing back down upon me, I silently thank Emil for saving me having to tell Lukas why he really couldn't come with me.

**Argh! I can't believe I wasted a whole chapter in a corridor! But I really did want a little more Emil in there (not biased in any way, I swear...[imagines Iceland with bed-hair, faints])...Ahem. Still, I hope you liked it and as ever, review! All reviews are like gold! Except, well, not quite like gold...but you get what I mean...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Whoah! Ten followers already? And I've only done five chapters so far...I've been a little down recently (exams, social anxiety etc.), but seeing such positive responses is really uplifting! I'll try to be less lazy, and actually write something decent for a change. Thanks all!**

I take the car as far as it will get me, but eventually meet a forest where I have to abandon it and go forward on foot. As I walk through the dark, twisted trees, light rain spattering on my head, I recall the last time I was here.

" _You think you're stronger than me?! Do ya know who I am? I'm Denmark! King of Northern Europe!"_

He then gave me a lovely scar on my back.

I shudder at the memory of Matthias' face, so cold, as if he had completely lost all reason. Which, of course, he had. Most countries knew of that hidden temper. I've always suspected him of having Dual Personality Syndrome, but afterwards he always seems quite aware of what he's done. It only comes out occasionally, and only lasts a little while. It can come out at any time, like it did with Lukas, but...there's something about that place that always, without fail, makes it emerge.

If Tino has been taken there, then his chances of being unharmed are dwindling by the second. I really hope I'm wrong, but at the same time, if I am wrong then I would again have no clue where my dear little Finn is...

It takes half an hour, but with my size, and therefore, long legs, I cover it in much less time it would take for most people to do it. It began to drizzle about halfway through my walk. I push a damp branch out of my way and come into a large clearing , in the middle of which is a large stone building which partly resembles a fortress, and makes a shiver of revulsion go down my spine.

I hate this place.

It's where he and I have shared many a loathed memory, and I'd hoped never to have to return here, but...needs must, and I'd go anywhere for Tino...

I stride up the stone steps at the front, and, standing in front of the imposing, unfriendly doors, I take off my jacket. I turn it inside out and bring the inside of the left shoulder up to my mouth, ripping through a thin patch of fabric with my teeth. A flat steel key falls out of the little recess in the fabric, and into the palm of my hand. I slide it into a small gap in the door, push it open, and go inside.

It's silent. The only sound that can be heard is the faint click of my boots on the cold marble floor as I gently shut the door behind me, and survey the room. Too large, I've always thought. But the Dane likes it that way. I quickly hurry through the room and down a short, richly adorned corridor, shivering as I go at the coldness of the place. I push open another door into the room that I'm guessing he's in. It is his favourite room here, after all.

And there he is. Sitting in a massive, throne-like chair at the end of the room in front of the windows. His blue eyes are smirking at me, and his white teeth are shown in a satisfied smile. His legs are crossed, and he surveys me whilst leaning his chin on one hand. Good lord I want to punch him.

For a long moment there is only the sound of the rain lashing against the windows, the dark grey light of the sky reflected into the room. I take the initiative.

"Wh're's T'no?" My already low voice is sounding pretty dangerous right now, and any other country would be quaking where they stood. Matthias is not quite as smart though.

"Tino...? Tino who?" He gives a sweet, innocent smile which I long to knock off his face. Actually, why haven't I...? I stride towards him, fuming. He'd better not have hurt Tino, or I will kill him. How dare he be playing innocent right now! I've always hated the way he treats everything as one big game. I absolutely shall NOT leave this place without Tino, and apparently I'm going to have to make that crystal clear to this smug bastard.

I reach his chair, and his expression is slightly less cocky now I'm up close.

"Hey, Swed-" I grab him by the collar and swiftly pull him up out of the chair. Before he can make any more noise, I slam him into the wall and press my face close to his. I look directly into his fearful eyes.

"Ya W'LL tell me wh're T'no is. Or 'll kill ya." I apply more pressure to his throat with my hand to assure him that I mean it. He puts his hand up to ease mine slightly away from him, and suddenly his gaze is sharp and hard.

"Ya'll get Tino back if you return Lukas."

"L'kas is a p'rson, n't a parcel."

"He's mine! Ya stole him from me! What did ya expect me to do?" His voice holds a hint of desperation.

" 't's up to L'kas if h' wants to go b'ck to ya. 'm not influencing h'm in any way. D'ing th's'll pr'bably make him want to g't back t'gether with ya even less. If ya w'nt h'm back, d'ya really think th's is the way t'do it?"

He looks at me for a second, and then nods, a strange expression on his face. I'm confused and not a little worried at his sudden mood swing. It's as if he is barely suppressing the urge to laugh.

"Fine," he says breathlessly. "Just pull that over there." He gestures with his head towards a long rope pulley behind his desk.

I give him a long look, then drop him to the floor where he sits gasping. I go over to the pulley and give it a tug. After about a minute two young men dressed in Danish military uniform appear. One looks like he could stare down a wall, and the other, slightly younger, as if he couldn't say boo to a goose. They look at me, and I see the boy's eyes grow wide. The other keeps his face neutral, but unconsciously takes a step back.

"Mads, Kristian...The young man downstairs...Go fetch him. Kristian, you know what you have to do."

The younger looks confused, but the other nods and turns to leave. The boy follows.

It goes quiet. I notice that Matthias is tapping his foot. And twisting his gloved hands together. He's..nervous? But why would he be...?

"I mean," he says suddenly, in an agitated voice. "Tino's been through some pretty rough stuff, hasn't he? And he puts up with some terribly dark winters, doesn't he? I mean, he probably recovers quickly..."

Afterwards, I'll know that now was around about when I should be working it out. But all I can think is that Matthias is obviously mentally unstable at this point, and not making any sense at all. Another few minutes of waiting. Then the doors open, and the men come in.

Holy hell. What. Has. He. Done.

That's the only coherent thought I can grab hold of, looking at the scene in front of me. The rest of my brain is a numb mess. I can't think. I can't breathe. I can't take it.

The young man in front of me is being half-carried by the two Danish men. He has a heavy blindfold covering his eyes, and a pair of noise-cancelling headphones on his head. His blond hair is slick with sweat, and his skin is deathly pale. His shirt is torn to shreds, deep gashes showing through on the delicate torso, and his hands are covered in drying blood. His head half lolls, seeming to drift in and out of consciousness and he doesn't attempt t struggle. And then I look down. Jesus. Both of his legs and his left arm are twisted at grotesque angles, and is that...Oh god, bone sticking out of his elbow.

I stare for a moment more, then I snap completely.

"Look, Berwa-" but my fist meets his jaw and sends him flying over the chair and into the window.

I hear an audible crack, but the glass stays intact. I barely register this, however, and I pick up his giant axe, which was leaning against the side of the chair. I advance, murder the only thought on my mind. I cannot believe what he has done. I will kill him. I will see his blood spatter onto that clear glass and drip down. I will end this. My head is in turmoil. I raise the axe high above my head as Matthias lies on the floor, fear on his face.

The Tino lets out an agonised whimper, and all thoughts of violence flee from my mind. I let the axe drop with a clang, and whip round to look. The older Dane has let go of him, and drawn his sword to defend his leader, leaving the younger one to do his best to help the semi-conscious Finn to stay upright. As strong as I felt a second ago, I now feel terribly weak. All I want to do is to hold Tino in my arms and make it okay. But his injuries are extreme. I want to cry. Then I realise that I already am.

I stride towards the boy who holds my beloved, my poor, broken beloved, and there is no mistaking the absolute terror on the young Dane's face. I reach out my arms, and he, after realising that I am not going to kill him, gently, tentatively lifts Tino into them. Before he backs away Tino gives another moan of pain causing me to pull him close to my chest, and the young man gives me an anguished glance. Then his eyes set, and he faces Matthias, a determined look in his pale blue eyes. When he speaks, it's in English, which is probably out of courtesy for me.

"I quit."

Matthias looks startled, having stood up from his place on the floor. I cradle Tino close in the least painful way possible for him. The young man gestures to him.

"I'm not working for someone who hurts innocent young men like that! What did he do to ya? Just beating him like that...It's not right! I'll take orders, but this...I can't take it any more!"

He turns on his heel and leaves the room, and from the slam of the front door, the building. All this has given me some time to gather my senses, and I look down at my love's face, and reach to take the blindfold off.

"No, Berwald. Remember our agreement! He stays blind and deaf until you're out of this place!"

I almost snarl at him for bringing that up now. It's the reason I couldn't bring Lukas with me. A long time ago, Matthias and I agreed to keep this place a secret from other country representations. Humans were fine, but not countries. This is our place to come and fight when we have settles to score with one another. If another country enters here, they have to be blinded and deafened for the duration, and we can't speak of this place to anyone else. And, unfortunately for me, I am a man of my word. I do not break promises.

I look Matthias dead in the eye.

"Th's", I say, speaking for the first time since Tino entered the room, " 's an act of war." My voice is hoarse, but has an edge of steel. I mean every word I say. And then inappropriately maybe, I give a proud smile.

"I h've him back n'w, M'tthias. 'll care f'r him 'til he's better, 'cause I love him. Ya said I'd n'ver get h'm back, but I h'ave. And n'w I'll go t' war against ya 'cause hurting h'm is like h'rting me."

I turn and leave. All my efforts are now concentrated on Tino, on keeping him safe in my arms and never letting go.

* * *

Matthias watched as the Swede went through the door, and away. He wore a slightly shocked expression.

"...Sir?"

He turned to look at Kristian, who stood there with a concerned expression on his face.

"Did he mean it sir? Will we really go to war over this?" Matthias shrugged, staring vacantly at the wall.

"Do you want me to fetch Mads back?" Matthias waved his hand in an airy way.

"Nah, let him go...You'd better leave too..."

When he was alone, he opened the window and leaned out. His mind felt...blank. All that he'd done, had been for nothing. Had been stupid. And now, another war. He'd been enjoying these past few months, attacking weaker countries who no one else would care about, but against Berwald? After the other countries saw what he'd done to Tino, the other, stronger countries wouldn't hesitate to back him up in a war. And Lukas...Against the mounting hysteria in the back of the Dane's mind, he knew that if he heard Lukas' name one more time, he'd go over the edge. Watching the ground below, he saw the Swede exit the building and begin to walk away, the Finn cradled in his arms like a child. As if sensing his presence, Berwald looked up at him, the rain soaking his hair and streaming down his face.

"Hey M'tthias...'fter this, I wouldn't h'ld much hope of L'kas coming back t'ya."

Matthias lost it.

* * *

By the time I reached the car, Tino was mercifully unconscious, as I didn't think I could listen to any more of his cries without getting hysterical myself. I kept thinking to myself _'It's my fault, I could have prevented this...I should have realised where he was sooner, should have been there to protect him...All my fault, all my fault...'_

I sit him gently in the back of the car, ensuring to put his seatbelt on, and then remove the headphones and blindfold. I gently stroke the hair out of his closed eyes, marvelling at how delicate and sweet he looks. How could anyone harm anything so...vulnerable? How is it even possible? He's so dazzling...I blink out of my daze. I remind myself that I have to get him to help, give him a quick kiss on the nose, get into the front of the car and begin to drive.

**I have spell-checked this, so if there are any typos, I apologise and put it down to being tired. Was this chapter okay? I feel...I dunno...like it's a bit...meh. Review!**


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